Eugene Hutz: Moustache of a Urine-Drinking Gypsy

Since I’m absolutely crazed packing (this is the last week of this, I promise), Eliza’s gallantly trying to carry Ectomo today without me, even though she’s just as busy if not more so. But it’s unfair that as fine a moustache as the one belonging to Gogol Bordello’s Eugene Hutz should pass entirely without comment.

So here’s my follow-up anecdote to Eliza’s last post. I’m passing acquaintances with Eugene through my friend Kathy, who was one of Gogol Bordello’s dancers. The first time I met Eugene, I struggled to remember where I’d seen him before: his boggling eyes, his leathern face, his bad teeth and his glorious moustache all seemed hauntingly familiar.

Later on, it suddenly came to me: two years previously, my friend Kathy had sent me a picture of her urinating into a dixie cup held by a leering, brown-toothed gypsy. Finding nothing on Earth more disgusting than a woman micturating, I spent ten minutes dry heaving, then deleted the email without opening the second image attachment (ominously entitled “drinking.jpg”). Nevertheless, that gypsy and the twisting helix of urine that counter-gravitationally leaped out of the small plastic cup in his hand and into my friend’s urethra was the sole ocular trauma that caused my recurring palinopsia.

Eugene Hutz of Gogol Bordello? He is the urine-drinking gypsy of my nightmares. It is only by dint of the devastating charm of his moustache that I have forgiven him. His music’s not too shabby either.